Premonition, of Dreams
by Fledgling
Summary: [Written for Rei. Prompt: Misa, apocalypse.] Misa dreams at night, when Light is not there... and they whisper betrayal to her. [Takes place when L and Light are handcuffed.]


Word count: 1, 101  
For Rei: Misa, _apocalypse_

_Premonition _

There was no reason it should be this cold. Misa pulled Light's jacket firmly around herself, and glared out at a city of glittering lights and frozen buildings. Her breath flew out in spirals across her face; and she waited.

What was Light doing? He must have been talking to that idiot detective L again. Her toes curled, and a small smile made its way to her lips. They'd never catch Kira. Light seemed to know it, but L's spooky eyes held faith that justice would prevail. She giggled quietly to herself. As if. But thinking about Ryuuzaki made her uncomfortable, and his sleepless, hungry gaze had an uncanny ability of burning itself into her mind. So Misa breathed out slowly, watching silver trails of feverish air billow and dissipate, and cast him from her mind.

She trailed her fingers along an icy mirror, and blinked mascara out of her eyes. Her finger was blurry; Misa's eyelids flickered, and she hissed to find tears in her eyes. Frantic thoughts ran through her mind (What if Light comes in to find me like this? He'll be annoyed at Misa for sure, and might punish her by not giving her a good-night kiss!) and she scrambled for a scrap of tissue, dabbing the tops of her cheeks. Misa hadn't taken off her make-up yet, because she wanted to look her best for whenever Light came in to sleep, and if Ryuuzaki was with him, then she'd just have to make sure he didn't notice her face. He'd surely ask. Not about the make-up, about the tears that he would surely see still staining her pretty eyes. His perceptiveness gave her shudders similar to those she experienced from stalkers.

She peeked at the clock on the wall, and yawned. It was an ugly clock, black and inelegant. 3:31 a.m. already? She yawned again, and jiggled her legs, watching the white skin with exhausted eyes, willing blood back into them, making them fleshly. She was going to have a photo shoot tomorrow-- no, today; maybe Misa should just go to sleep and ignore it. But something like guilt tugged her back, telling her to stay awake. A rather insane part of her brain even said that Kira-sama-- no, she meant Light, would be upset if she tried to sleep.

"It would be nice if Light were Kira," she thought sleepily, silk nightdress sliding off her shoulders as she tumbled into bed, overcome at last. Misa was afraid of dying, though no one knew it. But if Light was Kira, she'd be _willing_ to die. Anything to keep him with her. Even if her life was taken first, Kira would be happy, and that would…wait, Kira? Didn't she mean Light?

Misa rubbed her eyes. The back of her hand came away black and purple with make-up. Oops, she thought, I forgot to take it off. Then she remembered why she was still wearing it. A sudden pounding started in her heart, and Misa, though still dreamy, felt afraid. Afraid of what, she didn't know. She tried to still the flutter of her chest, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Like something was wrong, terribly wrong. Appeasing herself with thoughts that had once calmed her, Misa said, "Light will come back, don't be afraid," and her heartbeat slowed, but not by much. He needed to be there. Misa became terrified of the dark, and of death, and imagined ghosts, reapers, running towards her, hands reaching for her neck.

"Light!" she cried out loud, grabbing at the sheets, sobbing now. Eyes adjusting to the shadows, she gasped as the door swung open, and Light looked in, annoyance in his movements. "What is it?" he asked. She shook her head, glad to know that he was real, though his presence gave her a chilly feeling. She recalled, briskly, the fear racing through cold veins just a second ago.

"Light, come cuddle with Misa, will you?" She pouted, trying to be as alluring as possible.

He just shook his head.

"Please…" she whispered, but the sound of her voice was smothered by the door's violent slam. If it made any sense, Misa was not hurt-- she only wanted him more than she did before. Biting her lip, Misa dropped her head, silky blonde hair shadowing her cheeks. She was scared again, scared of the darkness pressing on her with all sides, inviting nightmares and reminding her of the apocalypse that Kira would bring. But Misa just shook her head, and oddly enough, didn't even argue that what Kira was doing was for the good of the world, and would prevent the end. She just whispered, to no one at all, "I won't be afraid, as long as Light is with me."

Phantom hands, with bony knuckles and harsh fingers, pressed on her eyelids, forcing a whimsical darkness into her thoughts. No, Misa can't sleep. She tried to struggle, but her limbs did not move. Was she dying? No, she couldn't die, Light still needed her--

But her dreams were filled with screams that were her own, L dead on the floor beside her, Light's hands pressed down on her eyes. He begged for her eyes, he wanted them, but she couldn't open them, and couldn't see for him. Then he killed her, though she hadn't seen it coming. There was only the scribble of a ballpoint pen on coarse paper, and that was the last thing she knew before--

Misa awoke from hallucinations and half-nightmares to find Light sleeping beside her. She raised a tentative arm, planning to fling it over his side, but held back at the last second, his betrayal still fresh in her mind. "Just a dream," she told herself, "just a dream." But emotions are irrational, and instincts hard to ignore. A flicker of gratefulness tickled her heart when she realized Light had covered her a blanket, but that wasn't enough to keep her by his side. Sanity had flown out the window.

So just for that one eerie night, Misa slept by Ryuuzaki's side, and said not a word, curled up in a tiny ball a safe distance away. She strained to keep awake, told herself to return to Light's side, like she was supposed to, but something in her wanted to watch the detective. Make sure he was all right.

Make sure that her premonitions (they might have been just dreams, really) would not come true tonight. Even with eyes squeezed shut, Misa could still see him writhing on the floor, hands clenched, hair astray, his final words lost forever in his dead throat.


End file.
